Footprints In The Sand
by starrytearss
Summary: Abby and Luka. 300 Patients.


A/N: Not a Ray and Neela this time around. Instead, it's a Luka and Abby. Enjoy. Reviews-as well as **constructive** criticism- are greatly appreciated. Takes place during and after '300 Patients'.

_Luka...I need help._

It all began to unravel. All the lies, all the broken promises, all the broken vows. All the damage you caused. You husband doesn't understand. He couldn't. He never went through this. But there he was. Taking your hand, stroking it with his thumb, his eyes glistening with tears as you sit on the floor with your son. A child you both conceived out of love.

_Love_.

One word. One chance. One life. Something you never used to believe in. But now, it was all on the line.

This is what it boiled down to. If your love was strong enough for the both of you.

He watches as your eyes well up with tears, and they fall over without a blink. You give him a weak squeeze and use his arm to support yourself as you stand up and move to stand in front of the window.

Rain.

It's all too much. You start to cry again. Harder.

You failed them. Your world, your life. The two most important people in your universe. Something you promised yourself you would never, ever do.

_I'm afraid I'd mess it up, Luka..._

And you did. But Joe's not the only one effected by what you've done. You fucked up Luka, too.

You listen as Luka's footsteps echoed behind you. They became more distant, and you assumed he's putting Joe to sleep.

It's then when you begin to think about that night. That night when everything you've ever known slid through your fingers like water.

Moretti.

You feel the chill run up your spine. Goosebumps emerge everywhere through your body. The bile rises in your throat. Hot tears stream down your cheeks.

You _cheated_ on Luka. The only love you've ever known. You threw it all down the drain.

You hear Luka's footsteps again. He walks to the kitchen and starts coffee.

You don't have to tell him everything yet...

3 in the morning was when you finally got home. The babysitter crying on the phone with Chicago police. You run her out of the apartment and run up the stairs to your son. The little piece of Luka you had left with you. He was crying, you remember. You take him out of his warm, safe bed and into your cold, insecure arms.

Mothers were supposed to be as safe as a child's bed. You couldn't even match that.

You close your eyes briefly and let the tears flow through. It's amazing how you can cry so quietly.

You almost crash the car on your way to the airport. So you took a cab, but not before cracking your head on the roof.

You get there. They won't sell you a ticket because you're too wild. You take Joe to a chair and sit with him.

That's when you remembered everything. The entire night with Moretti.

You cried into your son as the airport blacks out.

You hang your head as Luka walks towards you and places a cup of coffee on the windowsill in front of you. He then walks to the other side of the window. And waits.

You have to speak. You have to tell him everything.

'I started drinking again...'

'...When?'

'The night Joe got hurt. And I...' you pause for a lingering moment before continuing. 'Can't stop.'

Luka waits a moment. Then speaks. 'I thought that when I came back, we just had to get used to being married again. But things didn't get better and I thought...what do we do now?'

'I need to fix it. I need to go somewhere, a facility with professionals...and get better. And I need to believe it this time and I need you to believe it.' You look into his eyes and pause. 'And I need you to help me.'

When he doesn't say anything, you continue. 'So...so take Joe...go to Croatia for your father...while...I do that.'

'You want us to go without you?!'

'Yeah...I just-'

'You're his mother!'

'I know that! I know that! But I'm not a very good one. And I honestly don't think I can be until I deal with this.'

'Can't we do this _together?_'

'This is how we do it together! You have to help me do it...alone.'

* * *

So he does. As you stand outside and watch him load the bags into your car, you hold your son. You hug him. Kiss him. Smother him with as much love as you can muster with a broken heart.

He loads the last bag, shuts the trunk, and you give your son to his father. You walk over to the driver's side and wait.

This was it. There was no turning back now. Everything you did, everything you lost, you were going to try to fix. And gain it back.

Luka slowly walks over to you. You bring your son's head to your lips, kissing him softly. You gently squeeze his arm and open the door. You get in. You buckle up, and look at your husband outside the window.

You put your hand there. Waiting. Hoping. And there is his.

And you find the strength to start the car and drive away to do the part you have to do alone.

_Sometimes using all your strength...means asking for help..._

* * *

A/N: Yes, no? Review. 


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